When I Think of You (Day 185)

When I think of you

I see myself   

stretched out 

   under the same sun

in the same field   glowing 

golden just like you 

and when I look up 

my sky is also blue 

   how strange 

      we are   believing 

it’s true   that just because

   we’re far away 

      from each other

we aren’t the same though 

   when you look in a mirror, 

   when you think of me 

       you will see 

                     yourself

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Note: No, that’s not a photo of the midwestern US! 

It’s a beautiful field in Azerbaijan.

Original photo: Havin_HP 

Abuelita, June 2017 (Day 179)

We crossed the border in

a rusted Falcon, on a wheel 

that was starting to go flat. 

A fountain of dust spouted 

behind us, tinting the sky  

terra-cotta where the sun shone,

Powdering our car, skin, food 

with an ancient, ubiquitous grit,

metallic on our tongues, like blood.

Whenever we passed another 

car, truck, any sign of civilization, 

she ducked and covered herself. 

Before the stark mountains, a plain, 

monotony interrupted here and there 

by run-down, sun-broken signs. 

We drove through darkness, wide 

open to the desert air, vibrating

under a million spinning galaxies.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Photo: Rennett Stowe

Mystical Creatures (Day 101)

 
there is much to be said 

for awaiting in our own 

death a return to the hidden 

past  

for how the fine dust 

of remembrance 

coats the innumerable images

of our decades   

preventing us from making out 

the fine brushwork and exquisite 

filigree embellishing the souls 

of the departed 

and those we hold 

captive in our memories

imprisoning them in our dreams

in vain we attempt 

to recapture the unsuspecting 

reminiscence hidden 

beyond the realm  

the reach of intellect

tapestries spread on the forest 

floor cushioned by centuries 

of leaves   paper-thin layers 

of sun and shade 

buoying us as we wait   

quietly yearning 

for that mystical creature 

whose appearance   we hope   

will endow us 

with the objects of our desire

only chance determines

whether we discover 

and tame the beast before 

we ourselves must die

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Earth Day, 2017 (Day 94)

Earth Day, 2017 (Day 94)

heavy tilting planet

senses the shift    coming 

    of concrete 

and day    thick and shadeless 

concave sidewalk 

    knows 

ramrod feet from breathing 

tree   kind    houses retract

bleached neighborhood    sky white 

    beneath 

the world    thus 

causing    one lean   imagined 

dimension of pretty 

    spinning flatness

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Note: Photo is an edited version of one taken by Philip Grimshaw

Let Me (Day 69)

Let me
            help
                    hold
sing to             cry for
you
     know
    that the water I offer
will be soft
        cool
             quenching
     that the fire in my heart
will burn
    blue as lightning
                               as tears
music             bruises
will heal
      your heart
           when you lose
what         holds you      up
will
will not
       soften
            in unbreakable time
which will
      continue to pass
without
      feeling
            like a dream
you        will
                    outlast
this

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

***No human being is illegal.***

Image: Ojibwa village at Sault Ste. Marie in 1846, Paul Kane (1810-71)